


The most eligible bachelor in the Nine Realms

by novera_nope



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Forbidden Love, M/M, POV Outsider, POV Sif, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novera_nope/pseuds/novera_nope
Summary: She shouldn’t be here, Sif knows. She shouldn’t be watching this, for this isn’t meant for her eyes - and yet, she can’t seem to bring herself to pull back.Thorki from Sif’s POV.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 154





	The most eligible bachelor in the Nine Realms

Sif catches herself feeling uncharacteristically nervous as she looks around and sees all eyes are on her and Thor, standing in a closed position and ready to kick off the first dance of the evening. Rationally though, she knows nobody’s actually looking at _her_ \- they’re looking at Thor. He’s always had that effect on people, and now more than ever. 

It’s Thor’s coming-of-age celebration. The Great Hall has been transformed into a ballroom for the occasion, with clear accents of bright red everywhere she looks. Kings and queens from most of the Realms are present, hoping their son or daughter will have a chance at dancing with Thor sometime during the evening - and thus at making a lasting impression on Asgard’s crown prince. 

High up on the dais are Odin and Frigga, of course, looking proudly at their golden son. Next to them is Loki, not bothering to hide his disgust at the whole thing. Frigga winks at her. 

She’s relieved when the music starts to play and Thor begins twirling her around. Finally she’s able to move and forget about the assembled crowd staring at them. 

They dance in silence for a while, completely in sync – not unlike they are on the battlefield, really – and slowly Sif feels herself relaxing. 

“So, how does it feel to be the most eligible bachelor in the Nine Realms?” she asks after a while. She looks up at Thor, whose face is a steady thing in a whirl of red. 

He grins at that, a bit cocky, but instead of answering he shoots the question right back at her. “How does it feel to have the first dance with the most eligible bachelor in the Nine Realms?”

Sif scoffs. “Please, Thor. I’d much rather face you on the sparring fields and you know it.”

“Oh, my heart.” Thor’s face twists in mock-hurt. “I'll have you know this is quite an honour, you insolent woman.”

“You know I love you, Thor,” she snickers. “But not like _that_. You’re more like – like a brother to me, you know?”

Thor almost chokes at that and Sif immediately feels guilty, although she has no idea what she’s said wrong. “Thor? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I – it’s nothing, really.” Thor’s starts laughing, but it sounds forced and just a tad to loud to be earnest. 

Sif frowns, meaning to put him on the spot, but then another song starts playing and Thor’s obliged to part from her. He bows deeply before starting to mingle, leaving her in the company of the Warriors Three. 

She keeps watching him closely though, as something just doesn’t sit well with her. Thor dances with the eldest prince of Vanaheim. He dances with the princess of Alfheim. But as the night progresses, she notices Thor’s gaze sweeping the Hall more and more often, clearly looking for something. 

_Or someone_ , Sif realizes when Thor looks up at the dais and Frigga shrugs at him in answer to the silent question. _Loki_. 

Sif sighs – in her opinion, Thor’s better off without that haughty, pointy little face sneering down on him, but she knows Thor well enough to realize he wouldn’t agree with her on that. 

And surely, soon after, she sees Thor politely excusing himself from his conversation with a minor diplomat from Svartalfheim before heading out to the gardens. 

***

Sif forces herself to wait a whole five minutes before following Thor outside. Unsurprisingly, she spots him in the somewhat secluded area behind the old weeping willow. 

Loki’s there too, she guesses, as another muffled voice mingles with Thor’s baritone. They’re clearly in the middle of an argument, and she takes advantage of their distracted state to creep up on them until she’s crouched down behind the tree, all the while cursing the impractical dress she’s been made to wear. 

When she’s absolutely sure her attendance has remained unnoticed, she carefully peeks around the bark. Against the moonlight she can clearly make out two silhouettes, one obviously being Thor’s and the other standing almost just as tall, but much leaner. It’s Loki, indeed. 

Thor’s clutching him by the shoulders while he’s is pummeling Thor’s chest with his fists. “That should have been _me_ , Thor! Me!” he shrieks. 

“Loki,” Thor sighs patiently. “It’s just a dance. I’m not supposed to propose to anyone right this evening.”

Loki’s eyes snap up at him. In the white light of the moon, Sif can see them glistening – with tears? “Of course I know that,” he bites out. “But you will have to, eventually. You’ll have to date someone, and then marry them, and I’ll –"

Thor seems to be at a loss of words. There’s no use denying the truth, Sif supposes as the silence stretches, although she has no idea why Loki’s so upset about it. 

“I hate you,” Loki croaks eventually. “I hate you.”

This seems to shake Thor from his stupor. “No, you don’t,” he replies quietly. “You don’t hate me, just as much as I don’t hate you.”

When Loki doesn’t answer, Thor pulls him closer until they’re standing chest to chest. 

“Listen to me, Loki.” Thor’s voice is low, insistent, his words coming fast. “I want you to know that if you were anyone else – anyone but my brother - it _would_ have been you. And this wouldn’t be my coming-of-age ceremony, but our fucking wedding night, for I would tell all the Realms they should just keep their fair princesses and charming princes, since I have already found the most fair and charming of them all.”

Sif’s mouth falls open. Surely, she must have misunderstood. Surely Thor didn’t mean – 

“That’s a bit over the top even for you, Thor.” Loki’s words are mocking, but his lips quirk up in a sad smile. 

And then there is no doubt whatsoever that Sif is understanding the whole thing _just fine_ , for Thor puts his hand on the back of Loki’s neck in a gesture she’s seen a hundred times before, and closes the little distance there is between them. The kiss is languid, meant to be reassuring, and it speaks of a thousand kisses shared before. 

Sif almost stops breathing. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be watching this, for this isn’t meant for her eyes - and yet, she can’t seem to bring herself to pull back. 

After a long time, Thor leans his forehead against Loki’s and she has to strain to make out the words he’s whispering over and over. It’s a litany of _I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry it has to be this way_. 

“Yes,” Loki says softly, resigned, before a mischievous grin creeps up on his face. “Well, you better come up to my rooms after this charade’s done, and show me _exactly_ how sorry you are.” His voice sounds positively velvet and Sif can’t suppress the shiver that runs down her spine involuntarily. 

Thor chuckles, letting his hands card through Loki’s long mane for a moment. “I will, Loki. But for now –" He presses a quick kiss on his brother’s lips and reluctantly takes a step away him, looking apologetic. 

“Go,” Loki responds curtly. The grin’s still plastered on his face, but as he watches Thor go back into the throne room, back towards the music and the many sweating bodies more than eager to dance with the most eligible bachelor in the Nine Realms, his face falls. For a long while, he keeps looking at the door Thor disappeared behind, as if he can pull Thor back by sheer will alone. 

Sif has never seen anyone looking more defeated. 

***

Finally, Sif pulls back and puts her head between her knees. After the initial shock fades, her brain suddenly goes in overdrive. _How long?_

Scenes from the past she’s shared with them come to mind unbidden, and she finds herself searching there for clues, for _something_. She remembers the day when Loki – still a boy at the time – had fallen on his knee. He’d been inconsolable until finally, Thor had simply licked the angry red scrape, much to the disgust of the Warriors and herself. Loki’d stopped crying immediately, looking up at Thor in a mixture of wonder and awe. 

Had it always just been there, in some form? 

She remembers how one hot summer’s day, when they’d exchanged the training grounds for the cooler surroundings of Lake Tyr, Loki’d gone missing. Thor had taken one look at the ancient ruin that proudly rose from the water in the distance, and he’d utterly panicked. Not without reason, Sif had thought at the time: on Loki, a rusted sign reading _Do not enter! Mortal danger!_ would probably have the same effect as a red cape on a bull. 

When they’d finally found Loki, hidden within the ruin behind one of the rotten pillars with a mischievous grin on his face, she’d expected Thor to go ballistic, but instead he’d just pulled Loki into a hug so tight the two of them seemed to merge into one. “Thanks the Gods, there you are,” he’d whispered. “I was so scared, Loki. The thought of loosing you – I love you. You have no idea how much I love you.”

Loki’s green eyes had gone wide, so wide, and he’d kept mumbling it had been just a prank, but in hindsight Sif knows it’s the happiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She could’ve known at that point. She _should_ have. 

She remembers the time when Thor’d found out Loki had been planning a date with one of the stable boys. He’d seen positively red and had taken to sleeping in Loki’s chambers for weeks – _because this kind of behaviour wouldn’t be acceptable for a prince of Asgard_ , Thor had decidedly informed her. 

At this point, she wonders if sleeping was all Thor had been doing in there. 

Sif blinks, looking at the ground between her feet, still in the high heels she so detests. She shrugs them off and stands up, stretching her cramped limbs – surely Loki’s long gone by now. She starts walking back towards the festivities, shoes dangling from her hand. 

Now that she _knows_ , she wishes she could be happy for Thor. It’s not given to everyone to experience a love that real and profound – for that’s what it it is, she realizes, never mind that she doesn’t like Loki all that much. But loathe as she is to admit it, Loki had been right: in the end, Thor will be forced to marry someone else. It’s not fair – not to Thor, not towards his partner, not to Loki. But it will happen, eventually, and she suddenly she feels like crying. 

When she tumbles inside on her bare feet, she meets Thor’s eyes immediately. He’s looking down at her from the dais, a questioning look on his face. She smiles up at him weakly, sure he can read the sadness in her eyes, and then she goes right up to her room without even taking her leave. 

His secret’s safe with her, she loves him enough for that. And when everything will fall apart – and she knows it will – she’ll be there for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and/or Kudos make my day! :-)


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